


Crossing the Lines

by VicXntric



Series: Baggage [2]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, written in 2005
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicXntric/pseuds/VicXntric
Summary: Nick gets tossed another “softball” case, but it raises some painful issues for him and difficult questions for Warrick.Refers to the episode "Overload."





	Crossing the Lines

Assignments had already been handed out by the time Warrick arrived for work. With a philosophical shrug, he resigned himself to a lousy case as the price of being in a new relationship--a fantastic new relationship. After two weeks of seeing each other after work, yesterday had been the first time Warrick had spent the night--well, day--at Nick's.

He had meant to wake up in time to go home for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Technically, he _had_ woken up with plenty of time to do so, but he hadn't counted on how tempting and sexy a drowsy Nick Stokes could be. Any crap case he got stuck with as a result was definitely worth it.

"Hey, Smiley," Catherine said as he met up with her. "You're with me tonight."

Warrick blinked in surprise but fell into step beside her. "What've we got?"

"Two DBs in the desert," she handed him the assignment slip.

Warrick had one eye on the slip and the other on the hallway. When he spotted Nick just inside an empty lab, Warrick automatically slowed. Nick was chewing on his lower lip and frowning darkly over the folder in his hand. "What did Nick get?"

"You thinking of jumping cases on me?" Catherine slanted him an amused look.

"Nah, just curious."

"Well, he doesn't look very happy about it, whatever it is."

Warrick glanced back over his shoulder, then stopped. "I'll catch up with you in a sec, okay?"

Catherine snorted delicately, "Make it quick. Nicky doesn't look like he's in the mood to have you ride him about a case, anyway."

Struggling to keep his expression neutral, Warrick merely nodded. "I won't be long."

She gave him another narrow-eyed look before shaking her head and continuing down the hall.

Warrick backtracked to the lab. "Hey."

Nick looked up and his frown vanished. "You made it."

"I did," Warrick grinned. "I'm just heading out to a scene with Catherine. What'd you get?"

The frown returned. "Clean up for day shift. I guess Grissom is still ticked with me."

"That was a while ago. Are you sure?"

"Three interviews and a report--that's all I've got to do," Nick shot him a meaningful look. "What would you think?"

Warrick frowned as well. "That's..."

Nick shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it, though. You'd better catch up to Catherine." He looked back down at the folder.

"See you after shift?"

A hint of a smile played around Nick's lips, but he kept his head down. "Can't. I'll be interviewing." Another shrug, "The overtime will be nice, at least."

"You'll be here all night, then--til you can get to the interviews."

"Looks like."

"I'll give you a call later."

Nick still hadn't raised his head and he gave Warrick a look from under his lashes. It was a look that made Warrick want to lock the door and attack him right there--he actually had to steel himself to keep from going further into the room. "Catherine is going to be pissed if you don't get going," Nick reminded him, all innocence.

"Later," Warrick returned, his voice full of promise.

* * *

Graveyard CSIs rarely managed to leave their shift at the allotted time. Especially not Grissom's graveyard CSIs, who were known for all the doubles they pulled. So both Warrick and Catherine were glad to have made enough progress on their case that they could go home with clear consciences--they had to wait for the LVPD to chase down several leads on their end.

The only regret Warrick had was that Nick was putting in overtime this morning and they couldn't spend the extra time together. He had called Nick twice--when he had a few minutes free from the case, prompting much teasing and questioning from Catherine about his new flame. As he let himself into his house, Warrick wondered if he should crash for a few hours and then check with Nick, but then smiled ruefully. "You got it bad, man," he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Instead, Warrick forced himself to follow his usual after-work patterns. He was _not_ going to start acting like a high school kid with a bad case of puppy love. He was going to be cool about this. 

The amount of will-power it took not to call Nick was embarassing, but Warrick managed. He fell into bed just after noon, but only had a bit more than a hour's sleep before being awakened by his cell phone. "Um..." was all he could managed when he answered.

"Warrick?"

"Hey," Warrick smiled lazily at the sound of Nick's voice.

"Shit. You were sleeping. Sorry."

"S'okay," Warrick stretched and blinked the rest of his drowsiness away. "What's up?"

There was a slight pause. "Nothing. Go back to sleep, Rick. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Warrick sat up. "Nick? Something wrong?"

"I just...I was hoping to see you." Nick's voice was so halting that for a moment Warrick thought they had a bad connection. "But you're sleeping, so...maybe after tonight's shift, huh?"

"No. Hey, you want me to meet you somewhere? What's going on?"

"Could...would I be able to come over?"

Warrick didn't like the hesitancy in Nick's voice. "Jesus, Nick, of course you can! Was that what the stalling was about?"

"Well, I didn't want to--"

"Where are you?"

"I just turned off Sahara. I'll double back and be there in a few minutes." Nick breathed a slow sigh. "Thanks, Warrick."

As he was pulling on an old pair of jeans, it suddenly occurred to Warrick that he and Nick almost always got together at Nick's place. Warrick always assumed it was because Nick lived quite a bit closer to the department, but now realized it may have looked like something else to Nick. Normally, Warrick _wouldn't_ feel comfortable with someone he'd been seeing such a short time presuming they could just drop by his place at a moment's notice, but this was different. This was _Nick_. Warrick knew he could try as hard as he wanted to be cool about this relationship, but the fact was that he'd gone from a slow free fall to head-over-heels so quickly it scared him.

That is, it scared him when he had time to think about it. Warrick smiled when a knock sounded at the door. When Nick was around, he had far better things to think about. 

"I'm sorry about this," were Nick's first words when Warrick opened the door.

Warrick gave him a exasperated look. "Stop apologizing and get in here." He shoved the door shut and pulled Nick toward him all in the same motion.

Nick relaxed against him immediately and buried his face in Warrick's neck. "You feel good," he sighed, breathing deeply.

"So much for 'hello,'" Warrick chuckled. He guided Nick's face up to give him a proper greeting.

Nick jerked back for the briefest moment, but then acquiesced before Warrick had time to consider the odd reaction. He remained still under Warrick's attentions, though, apparently content to let Warrick's talented hands do as he liked.

This wasn't unusual enough to make Warrick pause. Often when they were together, Nick grew so passive that he was almost submissive. Warrick wasn't sure whether it was in Nick's nature or if Nick was still uncertain how to react with another man. It hadn't interfered with their pleasure thus far, so Warrick didn't let it worry him. He didn't see a reason to let it bother him today, either, considering the was Nick was arching and moaning under his touch.

Eagerly, Warrick started on Nick's jeans, anxious to be skin to skin. He'd managed to slide his fingers under the waistband of Nick's briefs when the intoxicating haze was suddenly shattered.

With a hoarse cry, Nick shoved him away and stumbled back into the wall. "Oh, fuck," he choked. "This is sick, this is sick, this is _so_ sick..."

If Nick had slammed a baseball bat into his ribs, Warrick couldn't have been more shocked--or pained. He stood stunned and breathless until Nick pushed away from the wall and scrabbled for the doorknob. When he saw Nick trying to leave, anger surged through Warrick and he grabbed Nick's arm. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, furious. "This wasn't sick two nights ago when you had my dick in your mouth!" Anger was so much easier to deal with than the hurt or loss Warrick could feel brewing in the pit of his stomach. "What the hell did you come over here for?"

Nick didn't try to free his arm, but held up his other hand to keep Warrick back. "It's not you--it's me. It's me."

Confusion slowly began replacing anger and Warrick carefully released his grip. "How can it be you if it's not me?"

Leaning back against the wall, Nick swallowed several times and Warrick saw that he _did_ look like he might be sick. "It's me. I shouldn't--God, after what...for me to want _anything_ after what I heard..." He wrapped both arms tightly around his stomach.

"The interview," Warrick said with sudden realization.

The dark eyes seemed to plead for Warrick to understand. "How can I want anything after what those kid said? Oh, Christ--" his voice dropped even lower. "Ever worse was what I knew they _weren't_ saying..."

Warrick felt a bit queasy himself with the combination of Nick's case and the sudden evaporation of anger and andrenaline. "Nick..." he took a step forward, then halted. "Jesus, Nick."

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry," Nick thumped his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "After I finished talking to those kids, all I could think was that I wanted to see you--I _needed_ to see you--"

Warrick moved forward and wrapped his arms around Nick, relieved when Nick practically melted against him. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, rubbing long, soothing strokes up and down Nick's back.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Nick rested his head wearily on Warrick's shoulder. "It felt good, but then all of a sudden I'd remember and...shit." His voice thickened, "Dammit, Rick."

Warrick tightened his hold briefly, then released Nick, although he kept rubbing Nick's arms. "C'mon, let's go sit."

Nick allowed himself to be ushered to the couch sank into it with another tired sigh. 

"C'mon, babe." Warrick didn't particularly want to hear the details of such a case--no one ever did, but he knew Nick had to get it out of his system. He knew how such cases made him feel, and being alone with your thoughts during such a time was rough. He settled one arm along the sofa back and began massaging Nick's neck. "How bad?"

"Bad." Nick rubbed his eyes. "That is, I'm pretty sure it is. All I had to do technically, is get the kids' statements and hand them over to the DA. Grissom basically tossed me a softball..."

"But..." Warrick prompted.

" _But_ some things are really screwy." Nick's jaw tightened, "Single father, two boys, wife walked out on them last year. Family's really well off, and Dad hires a nanny to take care of the kids."

"How old are the boys?" 

"Nine and seven. According to the file, the father suspected sexual abuse and took the kids to the doctor. There's nothing in the file about the results of the exams, but charges were filed on the nanny based on the boys' stories. Basically, the interviews are just protocol, because the nanny has pleaded down to 6 months and treatment." Nick's lip curled, "It's a goddamn joke."

Warrick frowned, "Why nothing about the doctor's exams?"

"I don't know." Nick swallowed hard, "God, Warrick, it's like no one gives a damn about these boys. The father wasn't even there. He's got them a new nanny and she brought them in."

That set off a multitude of warning bells. "He what?"

"Can you believe it? Would you let your kids out of your sight if something like that--" Nick's words choked off and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Warrick curled his arm around Nick's shoulders and tugged gently. 

Nick settled against him before continuing. "I don't know if the father just can't be bothered to do more or if there wasn't enough physical evidence to warrant more serious charges."

"If there _was_ evidence, the DA would likely pursue it whether the father wanted to or not," Warrick pointed out.

"You would think so. Something's so...off about this, but I can't figure out what it is."

Warrick was silent while he considered what Nick had told him. "What strikes you as the most wrong?"

"The boys," Nick's reply was immediate. "Not that they're lying, but they are definitely hiding something. At one point, the younger boy--Gavin--got upset, so I asked if they wanted me to get their dad. The fear in their eyes..." he curled in closer to Warrick. "I'm pretty sure to them, that seemed like a threat."

Warrick ran his fingers through Nick's hair. "You think it's the father behind the abuse?"

"No, I'm sure the boys are telling the truth about this--Lana Gardner. But there's more--I _know_ there's more." Nick gritted his teeth in frustration. "There's no reason for Services to step in with these kids, since there's nothing against the father. So the boys don't get an advocate--"

"--because it's assumed the father is looking after their best interests," Warrick finished with a sigh of his own.

"But he isn't. _No one_ is."

"And you're going to," Warrick did his best not to sound judgemental either way.

"I know," Nick lifted his head to meet Warrick's eyes. "I _know_ what you want to say, Rick. But I can't help it. These boys don't have anyone else."

"And you're hoping to find evidence that will speak for them."

"I'm going to try," Nick's jaw was set.

Warrick wasn't sure how far he should take the conversation. Before they became lovers, he would have at least played devil's advocate--called Nick on stepping over the line. All CSIs had called one another on it when someone became too emotionally involved. It wouldn't have deterred Nick, though, and Warrick knew it. Instead, he settled for a warning, but an innocuous one. "You were just supposed to get some final statements. What are you going to do when the DA starts asking for them tomorrow?"

"Stall," Nick returned promptly. His gaze faltered under Warrick's steady look. "Are you going to try to talk me out of this?"

"Not much point, is there? You're going to do what you think needs doing."

Nick shifted, straightening away from Warrick. "Look, I can understand that you don't agree with this--I'm not asking you to. I can go if--"

"Get back here," Warrick pulled Nick back against him.

Nick wrapped his arms around Warrick's waist. "I want to know those kids will be okay."

"I know," Warrick started stroking Nick's hair again. "Just one thing and maybe we should drop it for the night."

"Okay."

"See if the new nanny has noticed anything."

Nick smiled for the first time that night and leaned in for a kiss.

Warrick kept it brief, then whispered against Nick's skin. "And try not to get yourself canned over this."

Nick's smile turned rueful, then disappeared altogether. "I'm sorry, Warrick. I know--"

"Don't." Warrick really _didn't_ want to discuss this any further--it raised too many questions that Warrick hated to consider. Like whether he wasn't saying more because he agreed with Nick on some level or because he didn't want to anger his new lover. He tried to convince himself it was the former, but suspected the latter.

He and Nick had clashed many times over emotional involvement with cases without causing any permanent damage to their friendship. Occasionally it had been about Warrick, but usually it was Nick crossing that invisible line.

Warrick suddenly realized Nick was staring at him, obviously worried by his silence.

"Go ahead and say what you want, Warrick." Nick didn't sound angry--merely resigned.

"I don't want to say anything," Warrick replied. He didn't, really, and it wasn't just to avoid a possible argument. Nick's big-heartedness was one of the the things Warrick loved most about him, and he felt that complaining about it would be hypocritical of him. He met Nick's troubled eyes, "Just--try to walk softly if you can."

Nick gave the tiniest of nods.

Warrick felt weariness pressing down on him insistantly, and imagined Nick felt the same, if not worse. "We really should get some sleep."

"Yeah, okay." Nick released him and stood up. "I'll see you before shift then, right?"

Warrick scrambled to his feet as well. "Whoa, where the hell are you going?"

"Home?" Nick sounded bewildered by the question.

Warrick put his hands on Nick's hips and drew him close. "I thought you'd be staying here."

Looking painfully uncertain, Nick shifted. "Rick, I can't--that is...this isn't a good time--"

Warrick cupped Nick's face with one hand, hating all the shadows that still lurked behind the dark eyes. "Just to sleep, baby. I didn't think you'd want to be alone. Do you?"

"No." Nick leaned into Warrick's carressing hand.

"No," Warrick repeated, giving Nick a soft kiss before leading him into the bedroom.

* * *

"Nick!" 

Catherine Willows was one of Nick's favorite co-workers, but when she said his name in that tone, it made him want to duck and cover. Instead, he closed the Gardner file folder and turned to meet her with what he hoped was a disarming smile. "Hey, Cath. What's up?"

She ushered him into an empty lab. "I was talking to Warrick."

Nick knew he tended to be an open book, but certainly Catherine didn't think she could draw him out with such a simplisitic opening line, did she? "Oh?" he decided it was a safe, polite noise until he found out just where she was going with this.

"He said you were still working on the same case as last night."

"Um...yeah," Nick managed despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had been half-hoping she had picked up on his and Warrick's involvement and wanted to question him about that. Anything but the direction she was headed. "There are some loose ends to tie up."

Catherine's brow creased with worry. "Nicky, he told me what the case is."

Not trusting his voice at that moment, Nick simply nodded.

"He's worried about it, although he didn't know there were any special circumstances that could be a problem for you."

Nick's stomach bottomed out. "Did you tell him?"

"No, but I'm sure he realized I have...concerns about you working this alone." Catherine reached out to lay a hand on Nick's arm, "I wouldn't tell anyone unless I had no choice, Nick."

"I know." And he _did_ know that. "But you're worried I might give you a reason."

"You tell me," Catherine's voice was soft, but firm.

"I'm just following the evidence."

Catherine's expression said that he hadn't convinced her any more than he'd convinced himself. "I thought all the evidence had been collected."

"This was overlooked."

"Nick..."

Nick took a deep breath, trying to sound as steady and as reasonable as he could. "Maybe I'm taking an extra-close look at this evidence, but there's nothing wrong with that. I'm not breaking any rules or violating any protocol." _Yet._

"But you _are_ stepping on some toes," Catherine countered. "Dayshift's."

"It's hardly my fault if they missed something."

"Just make sure they _have_ missed something before you do anything drastic. Ecklie would just love another shot at you."

Nick nodded rather than risk saying something that could cause trouble.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, Nicky," Catherine said quietly.

"I didn't know I needed looking out for," Nick returned, prompting Catherine to pin him with one of her "Mom" looks. He tried again to reassure her--"It's fine, Cath. I'm fine."

Catherine nodded reluctantly. "If you want to talk, you have my cell number, okay?"

Nick managed another smile for her. "I appreciate it, even though it isn't necessary."

Catherine gave him another searching look before nodding reluctantly. "Okay. I've got to go find O'Riley. Talk to you later."

"Good luck," Nick called after her, just to make sure she knew he was fine.

Alone, Nick glanced around the empty lab and decided it was as good a place as any to go over his newest notes. He'd managed to ask Natalie Cerrado, the new nanny, a few questions. She had been reluctant to answer, and even when she did, it was usually with only a single word. Her reticence should have been enough to set off more alarm bells for Nick, but oddly enough it didn't. That was likely because her concern for the two boys had been obvious and seemed genuine and would Warrick think he was making a bad call on this or not?

Nick growled under his breath, angry with himself for thinking about his boyfriend when the case should be the only thing on his mind. Then the word _boyfriend_ clanged in his head, and Nick was unable to think of anything else. He, Nick Stokes, had a boyfriend.

Technically, anyway.

He doubted Warrick would appreciate the term. It just wasn't his style and Nick--who wasn't that crazy about the word, himself--didn't want to come across as too much of a blundering idiot. He knew that he wasn't _really_ blundering or an idiot--school, college and work records could all testify to that. He grew up in Dallas--hardly a one-horse town--and was the son of successful, sophisticated parents. Yet somehow next to Warrick he usually felt awkward and dull.

Nick was certain Warrick never intended to make him feel like a hick any more than Grissom meant to make people feel stupid just by being so obviously brilliant. Nick wondered briefly how often Warrick suffered from self-doubt. If he did, no one ever knew, because Warrick rarely gave anything away. Strangely enough, in spite of his poker-face, Warrick was always able to get his point across better with a single look than Nick could with dozens of words.

It wasn't that Warrick never put a foot wrong, because he did--Nick had even seen him do it more than once. But somehow, Warrick could make a misstep seem like the right thing to do. It made Nick think of the cats his sister Virginia always had two or three of--even when they did something stupid, they continued to stalk along giving every appearance of supreme confidence. Or maybe a better comparison would be the giant cats that Nick liked watching only slightly less than his birds. It was rather apt, Nick decided, because Warrick did tend to prowl through the Vegas jungle sleek, green-eyed and more than a little dangerous.

The burbling of his pager jerked Nick from his reverie. Embarrassed that he'd been mooning like a lovesick teenager, he actually looked around the empty lab before checking his phone.

_Front desk. ASAP._

Curious, Nick gathered his papers and hurried up the hallway, glad to have his attention forcibly dragged back to the present. He didn't see anyone at the desk as he approached, but Judy Tremont was beckoning him closer.

"She asked to see you," the receptionist whispered conspiratorially. "She's so jumpy I though she might bolt. That's why the ASAP."

Nick looked over his should to the spot Judy indicated. Natalie Cerrado had tucked herself into a corner, almost trying to be invisible. Nick felt a major break headed his way. "Yes." He flashed Judy a quick grin, "Thanks, Judy."

"No problem," she had already turned her attention to the ringing phone.

Cerrado did look ready to run for it at the slightest provocation, so Nick tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible when he slowly walked up to her. "Ms. Cerrado?"

She jumped to her feet as if shot. "Mr. Stokes."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," her lightly accented voice was shaky. "I waited until Mr. Russell was asleep. If he knew I was here..."

Nick raised his eyebrows, "Do you feel you have reason to fear Mr. Russell?"

Cerrado didn't answer. Instead, she looked uneasily up and down the hall at the CSIs and lab workers moving about.

"We can go into an interview room if you'd prefer," Nick gestured to the door just down from the front desk.

The nanny agreed with a nod and allowed Nick to usher her into an interview room where she immediately sat down at the table.

"Can I get you anything?" Nick remained standing for the moment. "Coffee?"

"No. No, I can't stay long. If Mr. Russell finds out I'm here..."

"If you need protection, I may be able to--"

"No, no," Cerrado watched her hands twisting on the table as if they were separate creatures. "I'm illegal," she finally blurted.

Nick nodded, not that surprised. "I'm not INS," he said casually. Then truthfully added, "I'm not interested in reporting or _de_ porting you. But I take it Mr. Russell knows this?"

"Yes."

"Possibly part of the reason he hired you," Nick mused.

"Look, I don't want to be deported, but I don't want to go through life having thrown those children to the wolves, either."

"The wolves? Plural?"

"Wolf, then. I meant the father. Although that bitch he had working before sure as hell wasn't nanny material, according to the boys."

Nick's eyes widened. _This_ was a surprise. "The boys confided in you?"

"Yeah," Cerrado scoffed. "Like those kids are going to trust another nanny. No, I overheard them talking a few times."

Nick would have loved to be able to record this conversation, but he knew Cerrado would never have talked if she suspected it. Instead, he settled for a notepad and pen. "Okay, Ms. Cerrado. What did you overhear the boys talking about?"

  


*******

Forty-five minutes later, Nick settled himself in front of a computer in the tech lab with five pages of frantically scribbled notes beside him. Getting Cerrado to stay even that long had taken all the charm and coaxing Nick could summon. The first thing he did was type in the name _Sabrina Russell_ for a general search. Dayshift had no information on her in the file other than to note she had walked out on her family the year before. Nick supposed that, technically, the mother's whereabouts weren't pertinent to the case and therefore not of the greatest importance, but it just didn't jibe with what Cerrado said about the carefully kept baby books in a distinctly feminine hand. Or the way she heard the boys talking about their mother. It did, however, fit in with all the arguments Cerrado would hear the boys recounting in whispers.

Nothing turned up on Sabrina Russell in Nevada or the immediate surrounding states.

Nick stared at the dead end screen for several seconds before trying something else. Phone records for the Russell home had been ordered but also never used because Gardner confessed before it was necessary to investigate further. Now Nick pulled them up and although nothing seemed out of the ordinary for the most recent month, before that there were a multitude of calls from a single number in Boulder City.

Going over what Cerrado had told him, Nick already had a good idea of whom that number belonged to. According to Cerrado, Gavin--the younger boy--was always asking his older brother why "Gram and Gramps" hadn't been to see them for so long. Jonathan would reassure him-- "Dad won't let them right now, but Mom said we'd be going to live with them."

_Dad won't let them..._

Nick took the name that corresponded with the number--Thomas Dennings--and entered that for a general search. Immediately he got a hit in the Family Court records.

"Thomas and Vivian Dennings..." Nick muttered as he wrote. "...visitation rights... _maternal_ grandparents..." He frowned slightly when he saw that the petition had been withdrawn, but was being held for refiling at a later date. Jotting down the Boulder City address with one hand, he used the other to pick out the name _Sabrina Dennings_ on the keyboard for a search.

For a moment he thought he would hit another dead end, but then an account at the Nevada State Bank flashed onto the screen. There had been no activity for over a year, and Nick knew he needed a warrant to get any more information. If the mother had intended to walk out on her family and not leave any information on her whereabouts, surely she would have closed her account first.

With a sigh, Nick looked over all the information he had amassed and tried to decide on his next move. There was really only one choice, so Nick quickly reassembled the file folder and headed for the board. Scrawling in his expected location and hours for the next day, he then clocked out at the front desk.

On his way toward the door, he dialed Warrick's number, then frowned when he heard the electronic trill in his uncovered ear. Glancing to his right, he saw Warrick in the layout room, opening his cell. "It's me," Nick walked into the lab, holding up his phone.

Warrick gave him an amused look before closing his phone. "What's up?"

"I was just going to let you know I'm going off-shift. I've got to go to Boulder City to do an interview today and I don't want to log any overtime on this."

"Same case?"

Nick forced himself to meet Warrick's steady gaze. "Same one."

Several almost-expressions filtered over Warrick's features, none of them remaining long enough for Nick to identify.

His heart thudding painfully, Nick remained silent, waiting for Warrick to say something.

After a few more seconds-- "I have overtime on my case, so I won't be seeing you until our next shift."

Nick nodded, wishing Warrick would say whatever it was he thought about Nick's action. "I'll... yeah, I'll see you next shift, then." Any mention or sign of their relationship wasn't possible at work, so Nick made himself stay where he was and keep his goodbye merely friendly. "Okay, so...talk to you later, then." He turned to go.

"Good luck." The warmth in Warrick's voice helped melt the iron band that had begun to tighten around Nick's chest.

* * *

Nick arrived for his next shift an hour early. Bleary-eyed and with the beginnings of a vicious headache, he was nonetheless eager to apply what he had learned in Boulder City.

Thomas and Vivian Dennings had been so desperate for news about their grandsons that they had practically interrogated _him_. Nick had told them what little he could and in turn, they willingly answered every question he put forward. Even taken with a grain of salt, their answers left Nick with several new leads that he was anxious to explore.

The problems came during the half-hour drives to and from Boulder City, leaving him unable to sleep when he did finally fall into his bed. Sixty minutes of trying to think about the case but worrying about Warrick's opinions instead.

As far as Nick was concerned, managing to attract Warrick's interest was the luckiest thing that had happened to him since he'd moved to Vegas. Warrick's charisma was so electric that the air fairly crackled around him, so Nick didn't doubt that Warrick could have nearly anyone he wanted with little more than one of those intense looks of his. That he seemed to want Nick was both baffling and frightening to the Texan. Especially terrifying for Nick was the risk of him being unable to hold Warrick's attention--of becoming more troublesome than he was interesting. Going overboard on a case like this when the relationship was so new was not a good idea, but Nick couldn't help himself.

"Nick?"

 _That_ particular voice always had Nick scrambling to organize his thoughts as quickly as possible so that he could provide an intelligent answer to any question Gil Grissom might pose to him.

"Could I see you in my office?"

For a brief moment, Nick considered saying "sorry, too busy," just to see what his boss would say. He did no such thing, of course, because it wasn't a real question. Instead, he followed Grissom into his office and sat down, feeling like a kid in the principal's office or, more aptly, one of Grissom's bugs in a jar.

Grissom sat down behind his desk and regarded Nick calmly. "Ecklie was by to see me," he said conversationally.

Nick winced. "That must have been fun."

"He wants to know why there's a hold up on the Gardner case."

"Ah...yeah. I'm not quite finished with the investigation yet."

Grissom tilted his head slightly. "You weren't supposed to investigate, Nick. You were just supposed to interview the boys and hand the case back to dayshift."

"I know, but I started...double-checking some things."

"And you found evidence of something more serious?"

"Er...no."

"Evidence that Lana Gardner is innocent?"

"No."

"Evidence of an accomplice?"

"No," Nick tried unsuccessfully to think of a more intelligent, involved way to answer.

Grissom didn't ask anything else, merely fixed Nick with a questioning look.

Nick sighed. "I don't have anything concrete yet," he admitted. "But the wife doesn't seem like the type to walk out on her kids, even if she was having problems with her husband." Wishing for his notes, he went on, "The grandparents said she was planning a divorce and Russell hasn't allowed them to see the boys since--"

"Nick," Grissom's voice wasn't any sharper than normal, but it made Nick stop speaking immediately. "Do you have any evidence in the case against Lana Gardner?"

"No," Nick admitted reluctantly.

"Why did you investigate further then?"

Nick took a deep breath and braced himself. "First tell me why you tossed me a case like this. One that is barely more than clean up."

Grissom blinked in bemusement. "It came to us via the Sheriff. Apparently Ecklie pulled the CSI working it to put him on a higher profile case."

"But why me?"

"I knew you'd do your best to keep the stress on the boys to a minimum," Grissom said candidly. "And of the entire team, you conflict the least with most of the dayshift."

"Oh." Nick didn't know what else to say.

"During their interview," Grissom was back on topic. "Did the boys say anything to contradict any previous statements?"

"No," Nick felt defeat looming. "Not exactly."

" _What_ exactly?" Grissom leaned forward slightly.

Nick knew that if he could quote one of the boys as implicating someone else, Grissom would let him stick to the case. Unfortunately, he couldn't without outright lying. "It's just that the boys...I don't think they're telling me everything they know."

"What makes you say that?" When Nick didn't reply, Grissom sighed. "A feeling, Nick?"

Nick knew Grissom didn't accept gut feelings as evidence, so he grasped at a final straw. "Lack of a doctor's report. Why isn't there one?"

"It wasn't necessary after Gardner agreed to a plea," Grissom countered with a frown. "A plea which can still be with withdrawn and probably will be if Ms. Gardner's attorney gets wind of this delay."

"Gris, those kids are still afraid of something."

"Those kids may still be traumatized, Nick," Grissom's voice was understanding. "Their statements need to be on file, but fortunately aren't vital to the case."

Nick tried to think of something else, but knew that he had no evidence that Grissom would find acceptable. So he remained silent.

"I know you want to do right by those boys, Nicky--that's why I let you run with it for an extra day," Grissom smiled slightly at Nick's surprised look. "But it's time to give the case back to day shift." He held out an assignment slip. "This ought to keep you occupied. It just came in."

Nick took the slip. "A 918?" He struggled to recall the unfamiliar code, "Isn't that...a missing mental patient?"

Grissom nodded.

His stomach suddenly leaden, and his mouth dry, Nick barely managed. "Nigel Crane?"

Grissom blinked in confusion, then his eyes widened in alarm. "No, Nick. No, of course not. I'm sorry, that never even occurred to me."

Nick did his best to shake off the sudden chill that had enveloped him. "Oh. Okay." Nigel Crane notwithstanding, something like this was just odd enough to normally pique Nick's interest, but right now it seemed a rotten reminder and a lousy inconvenience.

"It came in five minutes ago," Grissom gave Nick a hard look. "Detective Vartann is already on the scene. But, Nick, if this is a problem, I can--"

"I'm on it," Nick assured him easily, cheered to hear it was Vartann. He'd been meaning to track the detective down tonight, anyway.

"Okay," Grissom nodded. He turned his attention back to the jar of beetles on his desk. Obviously, as far as he was concerned the Gardner case was settled--all the evidence in.

Try as he might, Nick couldn't convince himself of the same thing.

  


*******

Twelve hours and one recovered missing person later, Nick was back at headquarters and going over the Gardner file again. He'd related the case to Vartann, who had originally been assigned to the case. Vartann was much more willing to follow a hunch than Grissom and readily agreed to check out the mother's bank account and several other facts that still didn't sit well with Nick.

Knowing there was nothing else to be done until he heard back from Vartann, Nick forced himself to set the file aside. He decided instead to fill Grissom in on the 918 and see if anything new had come up before heading home for the day.

Day shift had arrived for work about two hours before and Nick nodded to some of them as he made his was down to Grissom's office.

"Stokes! I want to talk to you!"

Nick turned to see one of Ecklie's favorite CSIs, Lee Travis, storming toward him. Nick knew what Travis wanted to talk to him about and briefly considered making an excuse and moving on. Nick stopped where he was and waited, his hands hooked at his belt.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Travis demanded, his lean form fairly vibrating with anger. "I just got a call from the DA. He wants to know why he doesn't have the rest of the file for the Gardner case."

"Because I'm not finished investigating," Nick kept his voice calm, know that it only infuriated Travis further.

It worked. Travis' face turned red. "It's not your investigation, Stokes. You were just supposed to finish up for me."

That caused Nick's temper to spark. "I wasn't doing anything for _you_ , Travis. My supervisor handed me a case and I'm working it."

"Your _supervisor_ ," Travis practically spit the word. "Was supposed to hand you two kids to interview."

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick noticed several people had stopped to watch them. "I thought there were a few things that required further investigation," it was a struggle now to keep his voice even.

"Further investi--" Travis' face went from red to a deadly white. It made the man's stark features look even colder. "Are you saying I can't do my job, Stokes?"

Nick knew he was entering dangerous territory, but was in too deep to turn back. "Shouldn't your first question be--'What could I have overlooked?' Shouldn't you be concerned that you didn't do everything to protect those boys?"

"Hey, go work for Family Services if that's what you want. I _did_ my job."

"If you'd done your job," Nick fired back. "I wouldn't have so many loose ends to check."

"Our job is to get the evidence to put the crooks away, Stokes," Travis poked Nick in the chest to emphasize his point. "I did that."

Nick knocked the hand away. "Our job is to get the evidence that speaks for the victim! And you can't be bothered to do that unless it advances your career."

Then Nick felt slim but strong fingers encircle his arm and tug gently. "Come on, Nick," Sara's voice cut through the angry buzz in his ear. "Just step back."

Ecklie had guided Travis in the opposite direction.

"Nick?" Sara was watching him warily.

With a tight smile, Nick gently freed his arm from Sara's grip. "I'm fine, Sara. I'm done here for today though."

Sara nodded her understanding, then gave Nick a warning look when Ecklie addressed him.

"Before you go home, Stokes," Ecklie managed to sound both pissed and smug. "Be sure you drop the Gardner file off at the DA's office."

Nick didn't acknowledge Ecklie's words, he merely gave Sara a short, jerky nod of goodbye and headed for the door.

Behind the wheel of his Tahoe, Nick forced himself to calm down. He knew it would be a bad idea to drive when he was still so angry and frustrated--he didn't need anything else going wrong today. Then he recalled that he'd been on his way to see Grissom and debated going back inside for all of a split-second. He really didn't want to see Grissom right now. He didn't want to see _anyone_ right now.

Except maybe Warrick.

He recalled waking up for work two nights ago in the warmth and security of Warrick's arms and suddenly wanted that more than anything. He wanted those long, lazy kisses and talented fingers to soothe away all the anxiety that seemed to be pressing down on him. Nick had his phone out and was ready to dial, then just as quickly slapped it down on the dashboard. Warrick had already dealt with more than enough of his crap from this case.

Catherine had been right--this case was tying him in knots, but he wasn't going to risk the best thing in his life right now by inflicting his stress on Warrick.

Now feeling more defeated than angry, Nick decided it was safe enough to drive home. He had a fifteen minute drive in which to prepare himself for an empty bed and another restless sleep.

* * *

Dusting for fingerprints at the burglary he'd been handed, Warrick barely managed to suppress a sigh of exasperation. Stuck at the scene for two hours so far with probably another two to go, all he really wanted to do was find out what was going on with Nick. He smiled wryly, acknowledging that normally going two days without seeing a new love interest was not a big deal--especially not in his line of work--so the fact that he'd been missing Nick like crazy was only more proof of how bad he had it.

That was even before he heard about Nick's run-in with Travis and Ecklie. There had been no shortage of people ready to tell him--or anyone else--what happened. But since most of those people were day shift, Warrick hadn't believed it until he got it straight from Sara.

Catherine seemed quite worried about Nick as well, and Nick should have had a major interrogation on his hands when he came in to work. Nick, however, only showed up when Grissom was handing out assignments and then hurried off again. There was only time for the smallest small talk with his teammates, which Warrick supposed was deliberate on Nick's part.

So Warrick had at least two hours to think of a way to tell Nick-- _for real this time, chickenshit_ \--that he needed to back off the Gardner case. He would have already had this out with his buddy Nick, but he was still wary of broaching the subject with his lover. The fact that he'd never seen Nick get in quite this deep with a case only made Warrick more leery about it.

When he was finally able to pack up his kit and head back to the lab, Warrick was no closer to a decision. He just hoped that when he saw Nick again, he'd somehow know what to say. His lips twitched into a half-smile when it occurred to him that when he saw Nick again, talking would probably be the last thing on his mind.

Once at the lab, Warrick dropped off some samples with Greg, then decided to go back to the locker room to change.

"Look, just come with me to double check the scene, okay? I really need you to stay with me."

Warrick stopped in his tracks at the sound of that voice. He would have recognized it as Catherine immediately except this person was pleading and Catherine never pleaded. Hell, Cath rarely even had to _ask_ to get people to do things.

"You don't have to process the scene if you don't want to. You can just sit in the truck and catch a nap. I just want you there with me."

 _What the hell?_ Warrick was about to volunteer to go with Catherine himself, but the next voice froze him to the spot and chilled his blood.

"No, Cath. I'm outta here."

There was such fury and pain and despair in Nick's voice and Warrick realized that Catherine didn't want Nick with her for her sake, but for his. As if to confirm this, Catherine spoke again, "Nicky, please. I'd feel better if you were with me. I know this goes beyond just the case."

"Don't, Catherine." Now Nick's voice was pleading.

"Just--don't say that again, okay? I know Gil was rougher on you that usual, but--"

"He wasn't. He was--" Nick voice caught. The sound made Warrick's chest tighten. "No. I'm sorry, but no."

"Nick...sweetie, just...don't leave right now. You're so upset--"

A locker door slammed. "No. I'm done, Cath."

Warrick braced himself when Nick appeared around the row of lockers, but Nick stormed right past, his face frighteningly white and his eyes glazed. Warrick knew Nick hadn't even seen him.

It took several moments and Catherine's voice to shake Warrick from his stunned paralysis. He started to go after Nick, but instead nearly collided with Grissom.

"Good, you're both here," Grissom looked more preoccupied than usual. "Brass just called in with a triple homicide at the Lucky Seven Motel. I need everyone there."

"Nick left for the night," Catherine's voice held a faint accusation.

The muscle in Grissom's jaw twitched and one corner of him mouth tucked downward. "No need to call him back if he needs the time," he finally said. "But I'll need you both at the scene."

"We'll meet you there," Catherine took the assignment slip.

Grissom nodded and left the locker room. Everything had happened so fast the Warrick was still trying to process the fact that he would _not_ be going after Nick at this moment. "What the hell?" was all he could manage.

"Come on," Catherine tugged on his arm to get him moving. "I'll tell you on the way."

Warrick followed her to the Tahoe, for once not insisting on being behind the wheel. "What the _hell_ is going on?" he demanded again.

Catherine sighed as she pulled out of the parking lot. "You know the case Nick's been working?"

"The nanny? Yeah." Warrick hoped he sounded normal in spite of the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"He went way over the line and tonight Grissom pulled him up short--really short."

"Dammit," Warrick clenched his teeth.

Catherine shot him a considering look, then focused back on the road. "Apparently, Nick was told yesterday to hand the file over to the DA by Grissom and Ecklie."

Warrick closed his eyes in resignation. "But he didn't. Shit."

"Grissom called Nick into his office and--" Catherine shook her head unhappily. "He was as close to screaming as Grissom ever gets, although no one could make out what was said."

"Oh man."

"Nick came out and went straight to his locker. When I found him, he'd already emptied it."

Warrick's stomach bounced back up to practically lodge in his throat. "Emptied? As in--?"

"I'm still not sure how serious he was--is, or if it's just because he was so upset." Catherine turned off the main drag to the seedier part of town. "I think I talked him out of quitting right away." She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white. "Damn, I _knew_ I should have taken the case off his hands."

"Why?" Warrick knew he was missing something in this area--he'd had the feeling before. "You mentioned that when I first told you about it."

Catherine flicked him a look. "These kinds of cases tend to be extra hard on Nicky."

Warrick could tell that was all she was going to say about that, so he went back to their original subject. "Do you think he's okay to be alone?"

"I think he's better off at home right now," Catherine replied. "At least he can't quit from there, and hopefully he can calm down." Then another possible meaning struck her. "Warrick, you don't...you can't mean Nick would--do something desperate."

Warrick _hadn't_ thought of that. He'd been more concerned with Nick confronting the father, but now he felt a spike of very real fear. "Nah," he said to reassure himself as much as Catherine. "That's just not Nick. But maybe I should swing by. You could let me out and I could take a cab--"

"Bail en route to a crime scene? Warrick, have you lost your mind?"

 _Almost,_ Warrick rubbed his forehead.

"Grissom's already pissed beyond words, this would--" she caught herself and lowered her voice to its normal level. "Look, try Nick on your cell. You can keep trying from the scene when you get the chance. As soon as we can, I'll try and arrange it so you can bail."

Warrick already had his cell out, but he hesitated and gave Catherine a speculative look.

Catherine's lips twitched. "What's up, Warrick?"

"Did Nick tell you...uh, anything?"

"Not with words," Catherine's smile escaped. "And he hasn't let on a whole lot more than you have."

"What?! I've--oh shit."

Catherine laughed, although it was a bit shaky. "Don't worry, you guys haven't been obvious. I've just been watching for the signs for a while now."

Warrick felt a wry expression twist his lips. Hardheaded scientist, yes, but Catherine was also capable of intuitive leaps that would have driven Grissom nuts. "Hell, you probably knew before we did."

"Probably," Catherine agreed easily. Then she sobered again. "I think you could be good for each other, but I just hope you know what you're getting into, Warrick."

Warrick wasn't sure how to reply to that.

"Some people hide stuff by being completely open," Catherine reminded him as she pulled up to the Lucky Seven.

"You trying to scare me off?"

"No. But I also don't want to see either of you hurt."

Warrick nodded before getting out to show that he got the point. He started dialing and listened to Nick's number ring while he opened the back of the SUV to get their kits.

Another two hours and innumerable attempts later, Warrick still hadn't reached Nick. Normally at a triple homicide, Warrick would never dream of making a half-dozen personal calls, but this scene was remarkably straightforward--so far. All their vics had tattoos of gang insignias and Warrick recognized one as a well-known dealer. While the CSIs still did their jobs well, some of the pressure was off. The three young men were victims, but they weren't exactly innocent.

So although no one took shortcuts, it was all about double-checking instead of triple- or quadruple-checking. Warrick wasn't the only one distracted, either. Catherine checked in several times to see if he'd reached Nick, and Grissom was no where near as intense as usual. Only Sara worked with her usual level of concentration and right now Warrick envied her that.

Finally, the bodies had been taken by the coroners and most of the scene was processed. When Grissom told he and Catherine to haul the majority of the evidence back to the lab, Warrick had to struggle to keep his expression neutral.

Catherine flatly refused his offer to drive, but she didn't exactly dawdle herself. When they got back to the lab, Warrick deposited the evidence at ballistics and trace. Catherine was waiting for him outside the DNA lab. "There's only half an hour left in the shift. I'll cover for you."

Warrick didn't waste another second. He headed for his jeep and pulled up to Nick's place in record time. He knocked on the door and when that didn't elicit a response, he pounded on it with the side of his fist. "Nick!"

The door opened. Nick was drawn and pale but managed a tiny smile of welcome for Warrick.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours."

"Sorry," Nick replied. "I turned both phones off."

"So you don't want company?"

"Depends on the company." Nick stepped aside to let Warrick in.

Warrick stalked into Nick's house, his fear and worry having coalesced into anger. When Nick shut the door, Warrick grabbed him by the shoulders and held him in place against it. "What the hell are you doing?"

Nick reached up to cover Warrick's hands with his own.

Thinking Nick meant to remove his hands, Warrick tightened his grip, still not enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. "You're not quitting."

"I haven't decided that yet." Nick curled his fingers around Warrick's wrists, holding on rather than trying to move them.

Warrick's anger didn't last long--it never did, with Nick. Especially not once he noticed that the shoulders under his hands were slumped, the dark head was bowed and the voice sounded dulled rather than drawling. Exhaustion was visible in every line of Nick's body and Warrick knew it was more mental and emotional than physical. "Jesus, Nick, what happened?" He tried to catch Nick's eyes. "How did it get so out of hand?"

"I didn't give up the case when they told me to," Nick kept his gaze on the floor. "I thought that with just one more day--" He shook his head, "I guess the DA went to Grissom, mad as hell. After he left, Gris paged me to his office."

"And?"

"And what?" Nick shrugged. "Grissom tore a couple layers of skin off me. Gave me the whole speech about emotions versus evidence, which I already _know_." Slight indignation had crept into his voice. "It's not that I don't _know_ it. It's just--it was worth the risk...it _seemed_ worth the risk."

"I know," Warrick squeezed Nick's shoulders again, but with the utmost gentleness.

"I don't remember everything he said, but I do remember him saying he ought to bust me back down to a CSI2."

Warrick was beyond words for several minutes. "Can he even _do_ that?"

"I don't see why not," Nick's voice was low but steady. "If he believes I've given him reason. And obviously I have."

"No wonder you wanted to quit."

Nick lifted his head, "That's not why I--" He stopped at Warrick's surprised look and dropped his eyes again. "I mean, it would be disastrous for my career, but other people have had to work past worse and done okay. It's always possible to--"

"Nick," Warrick cut him off. He knew how much Grissom's respect meant to Nick, and if the prospect of losing it wasn't enough to make him consider quitting, Warrick couldn't imagine what would. "Catherine said you were talking about quitting."

Up until now, Nick had been still under Warrick's hands, but he began to shift as if preparing to break away. "I don't--" his voice wavered. "I've been trying not to think about that."

Warrick stepped closer, pinning Nick against the door with the length of his body. "C'mon, Nick, talk to me."

"Grissom said--" Nick swallowed hard, then started again. "I've never seen him so...he said that they might have to cut Gardner loose. And that if they did, I had a part in any other kids she--" his voice thickened and he couldn't continue.

Even knowing Grissom had only said what he did because he himself was so upset didn't stop Warrick from feeling a twinge of irritation toward his boss. "No way," he took Nick's face in his hands so Nick had to look at him. "You know that isn't true. Grissom was just pissed off when he said it."

"But he's right. If I hadn't--"

"He isn't right," Warrick felt suddenly frustrated at the familiarity of this situation. "Dammit, Nick, you have _got_ to stop taking responsibility for what the criminals do."

Nick closed his eyes. His long lashes were spiky with moisture even though there were no visible tears. "I know this sounds pathetic, but I only wanted to help those boys."

"Why is that pathetic?" Warrick pressed his lips to Nick's forehead briefly. "It's not." _It's one of the things I love about you_ , he almost said, but managed to stop himself.

"I'm so damn tired of this."

"Of what?" Several of the knots inside Warrick loosened when Nick wrapped both arms around his waist.

"Of being the screw-up," Nick's voice had an edge to it. "I work my ass off at my job, I try to treat people right and somehow I always end up doing the wrong thing or the _stupid_ thing or just--"

"Jesus, Nick..." Warrick was dismayed to hear Nick felt this way--that this was obviously more than just his recent cases. It was often bantered among the graveyard shift that Nick always seemed to catch the rough breaks and Warrick had even heard some of the detectives they worked with joke that they felt extra-safe working with Nick because if there was trouble, it would find Nick first. He'd never heard anyone imply the bad luck was Nick's fault. "I'm not sure this is the right thing to say to you right now, but I'm pretty sure you're wrong."

Nick let out a startled laugh and Warrick felt a couple more knots loosen.

"I think you're the only one who sees it that way, Nick." Warrick slipped one hand behind Nick and began moving it in small, soothing circles. "I've never heard anyone call you a screw-up or stupid. Stubborn, hot-headed and prone to rash behaviour, yes, but never stupid."

"You're just sweet-talking me because you want to get me into bed," Nick retorted dryly.

Warrick grinned at that, but only briefly. "I don't want to pressure you to--" he stopped when Nick let out another laugh.

"That's not what it feels like to me," he replied, indicating the way Warrick had him pinned. When Warrick started to move back, Nick tightened one arm and moved the other to Warrick's neck. "I don't want to talk about work anymore." He pulled Warrick's head down for a quick, hungry kiss. "I don't want to _think_ about work anymore."

Warrick needed no more encouragement. He dipped his head to nuzzle and lick at the smooth column of Nick's throat. Nick sighed happily and quickly slipped his hands under Warrick's shirt, prompting the taller man to do the same. Warrick managed to toe off both shoes without once breaking contact. Kicking the shoes aside, he insinuated one leg between both of Nick's.

Nick gasped at the extra sensation. "Maybe--oh, jeez, Rick--" when Warrick bit down on his earlobe, "Maybe we should go to the, um, the--"

"Bedroom?" Warrick purred in Nick's ear.

"'Kay," Nick agreed with a shiver.

Getting to the bedroom took some time, but by the time they'd reached it, both shirts were gone and Warrick had started on Nick's jeans.

"What do you want, Warrick?" Nick panted, pulling Warrick along until they bumped up against his bed.

Warrick slid a hand down to squeeze a firm ass cheek. "This," he breathed. "But only if you're okay with it."

"I'm okay with it," Nick murmured against Warrick's chest.

They only had intercourse twice and although the first time wasn't _quite_ a disaster, it was close. The next time had been better, but Warrick doubted it had been anything really special for Nick despite his best efforts. "Are you sure?"

In response, Nick bit lightly on a dark, dusky nipple.

"Hey!"

Nick cast an innocent look up at Warrick, although there was no disguising the wicked amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, it's like that, huh?" Warrick bore Nick back onto the bed. Then, before Nick had gotten his bearings, Warrick slid down the length of his body to kneel on the floor.

"Warrick?" Nick propped himself on his arms, then nearly lost his balance when Warrick tugged the waistband of his jeans. "Warrick!"

Warrick tugged a bit more, then hooked his hands behind Nick's knees and pulled until his calves were hanging over the edge of the bed. Ignoring Nick's startled yelp, Warrick concentrated on his goal--freeing Nick's straining cock from its confines. The complaints stopped at once.

Knowing they were hypersensitive and Nick didn't like them played with much, Warrick handled Nick's balls only briefly before focusing his attention--and mouth--where it would bring the most pleasure.

When he felt the warm, moist heat envelope him, Nick let himself fall back on the bed. He braced his feet on the floor and tried to thrust upward, but Warrick leaned on his thighs, holding him in place.

Keeping one hand on Nick's cock, Warrick used the other to finish stripping off the faded jeans. Then he shifted to a better position, settling himself between Nick's legs. 

"You're--too...damn good--at this..." Nick finally managed a semi-coherent sentence between gasps.

Warrick chuckled around his mouthful, wringing another groan from the man beneath him. He let little Nick slide free long enough to ask-- "Lube?"

"Bought some..." Nick sounded rather befuddled at the lost of sensation.

"Where is it, babe?" Warrick couldn't restrain an amused smirk.

"Um...end table?"

Pausing only to press a quick kiss to Nick's inner thigh, Warrick leaned over and opened the endtable's top drawer. He found lube and condoms, which relieved much of his concern over Nick's wants--obviously Nick had been considering trying again before today. He left a condom on the table for later and slicked some lube on his fingers, then settled himself back between Nick's legs. 

Nick had started to sit up, but compliantly slumped back down when Warrick pushed gently on his chest. Although he still kissed and fondled Nick's eager cock, Warrick concentrated on probing the cleft of Nick's ass with his lubed fingers. His own cock was getting uncomfortably tight in his jeans, but Warrick was determined that Nick be fully prepared and begging to be fucked. He massaged one finger over the puckered opening until Nick was gasping and whimpering and then slid it carefully inside. 

Although Nick tensed immediately, Warrick quickly located his prostate and all Nick's resistance--along with his ability for speech--vanished. He took just the head of Nick's cock in his mouth and began to suck enthusiastically, even as he managed to get a second finger inside the loosened opening. Warrick knew he would never get tired of the sight and sound of Nick at him most needy; the flushed skin, the helpless noises and the heaving chest made him harder than anything else in his life.

Just to make absolutely certain, Warrick inserted a third finger and when that only brought another groan, he began to finger fuck the responsive body in earnest. When Nick managed to choke out his name, and Warrick knew he was too close to the edge to wait any longer--they both were. 

He moved away long enough to quickly strip off his own jeans and then roll on the condom, hoping the delay wouldn't set them back. Judging from the look of desire on Nick's face as he pushed himself further onto the bed, that wouldn't be a problem. "How..?" Nick voice was hoarse, breathless.

"On your back, baby," Warrick knew his voice was sounded much deeper than usual. "I want to see you."

Fire in the dark eyes flared even hotter and Nick laid back, drawing his legs up so willingly, so trustingly that an inexplicable wave of tenderness surged briefly through Warrick's lust. It was quickly overridden by need--the need to take complete advantage of the offering before him. Warrick knelt on the bed, between Nick's legs again, and grasped the slim hips in his hands. Nick did his best to angle his body upward and after only the slightest resistance, Warrick was able to push himself all the way in. 

The feeling was enough that Warrick nearly lost it on the spot and had to draw in huge breaths of air to get himself under control--he wanted to make this last as long as possible. 

"Warrick....Warrick, _move_!" Nick choked, trying to recreate the sensation, but unable to get much leverage with his legs in the air.

Warrick knew he had the right angle when Nick's eyes closed in ecstasy. "Let's go for a ride, baby," he growled, and began moving--harder and faster with every thrust.

One of Nick's hands was fisted in the bedsheets and with the other he began pulling desperately as his leaking cock. All it took was Warrick adding his hand to the job and Nick was splattering his chest with semen, his head thrown back, the cords in his neck taut. After that, Warrick gave up what little control he had left and thrust into Nick over and over, frantically, blindly, fiercely and loudly.

It took longer than usual for Warrick to catch his breath, but eventually he managed to lever himself off Nick, holding onto the condom until his softened cock slipped free. Nick let his legs fall back down with an exhausted, but contented-sounding sigh. 

"You okay?" Warrick asked, hoping he hadn't gotten carried away.

"You kidding?" Nick gave him a blissful, sleepy smile.

Warrick leaned over for a soft, feather-light kiss, then turned away to dispose of the condom. He was looking for something to clean up with a bit, hoping it wouldn't have to leave the comfort of Nick's California-king mattress to do it. His own shorts were the closest, so he grabbed them off the floor. Levering himself back up, he noticed Nick's phone on the night stand and snagged that as well.

He cleaned them both off, then tossed his shorts back. Seeing Nick was only moments away from sleep he felt a twinge of regret saying-- "I'm going to turn your phone back on, okay?"

Nick blinked, his happy expression fading slightly. "What?"

"In case Cath tries to get ahold of you," Warrick explained. "She was really worried."

"Okay, then," Nick agreed, although he sounded a bit reluctant as he watched Warrick do just that. However, contentment seemed to return when the larger man stretched out beside him, pulling him close. "Did...did she know you were coming here?"

"She did. She knew." Warrick settled himself against the pillows and Nick against his chest.

"Like _knew_ , knew?"

"Yep. Which really shouldn't surprise us."

"I guess not."

Neither man said a word about the problems that were waiting for them. For now they were sleepy and satisfied and had hours before they had to address those problems.

They slept.

* * *

Stretching luxuriously, Warrick started to turn over, only to find himself pinned under sleep-heavy limbs. Opening one eye, he smiled down at Nick, who was pressed close to him, sound asleep. One arm and one leg were thrown possessively over Warrick's chest and legs, so Warrick shifted toward Nick instead of away and his smile widened when Nick nestled closer with a contented murmur.

Normally, Warrick didn't care to have anyone wrapped around him when he was trying to sleep, but somehow when Nick did it, it wasn't a problem. He'd known before--when Nick was still just a buddy--that the Texan was a tactile person; the sort to give someone a pat on the back or a clap on the shoulder. It fit in so naturally with Nick's open, friendly nature that no one gave it a second thought--including Warrick. It was only after they became lovers that Warrick noticed how much Nick seemed to revel in physical contact. Usually there was nothing sexual about it, it was more about comfort and affection than anything else. Warrick wondered whether it was because Nick's family were all demonstrative and Nick missed it, or if he craved it for the opposite reason. In either case, Warrick was glad to indulge Nick in behavior that would have irritated him with most other people.

Nick moved in his sleep again and his morning--afternoon--erection nudged Warrick's hip. Warrick's smile turned to a smirk and he was just debating what would be the best way to proceed when the phone on the night stand trilled. Warrick grabbed it but managed to catch himself before he answered it. He was sure it was Catherine calling to check up, but in case it wasn't, he didn't care to start the questions that might arise from him answering Nick's cell at an hour when most graveyard CSIs were just getting up.

"Nick," he nudged his lover. "Babe, answer your phone."

"Mnh?"

"Your phone," Warrick pressed it into the hand resting on his chest.

Nick fumbled briefly before getting it open. "'Lo." He finally managed.

Warrick relaxed back against the pillows to enjoy that drawl--thickened by sleep and sexy as hell--while Nick tried to convince Catherine everything was fine.

"Jim?"

Warrick frowned--not Catherine, then. 

"Sorry. I turned off my phone because...yeah. You heard, huh?" All traces of sleepiness had disappeared and Nick quickly propped himself up on his free arm. "Oh...yeah. I had asked him to look into that but--"

Watching as Nick's shoulders slumped and his head bowed, Warrick knew which case Brass was calling about and that if the Captain had become involved, things couldn't be good.

"Look, I'm sorry about that," Nick rubbed his eyes. "Could you tell Vartann to--what? She had a-- _what_?!" Nick was sitting straight up, now.

So was Warrick, wanting to be prepared for any more bad news.

"Do you think you can get it? Oh... _hell_ , yeah!" Nick tossed the covers back. "I'll see you in thirty."

Warrick quickly put a hand on Nick's shoulder before he could get out of bed. "Hey, you want to tell me what's going on?"

Nick turned only long enough to plant a quick, hard kiss on Warrick's lips before getting up and hurrying out of the bedroom.

"Nick!" Warrick managed to catch up with him just outside the bathroom. "What the hell? Was that Brass?"

"Yep," Nick drew Warrick toward him for another, slightly longer kiss. "Vartann cracked the case with the info I gave him." Nick didn't exactly look happy--to Warrick it seemed like a mixture of relief and triumph. "Enough for a warrant to search Russell's house. Brass is getting it now--he'll meet me at the house in a half-hour. Family Services, too. I've got to grab a shower."

By the time Warrick had made sense of the rush of words, Nick was already under the running water. With a rueful smile at a missed chance for some wake-up sex, Warrick padded back to the bedroom and pulled on the shirt and jeans he'd discarded that morning. He was waiting in the living room when Nick emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Just to torture himself, Warrick followed Nick back into the bedroom. "What did they find on the guy?"

Nick was rooting through his dresser, "The wife's safety deposit box. Brass didn't tell me everything, but just the pre-nup in there makes things look suspicious." He found shorts and a fresh pair of dockers and started pulling them on. "If there's a divorce, the husband gets what he came in with, which isn't much because the money is all on the wife's side. If the wife dies, though, all control of the money reverts to the grandparents."

Warrick suppressed a sigh and the urge to undo Nick's progress with his pants and concentrated on the facts Nick had just given him. One thing that stood out about the case--"Didn't the wife walk out?"

"Supposedly, but there was no provision for that, according to Vartann. And she had contacted a divorce lawyer." Nick grabbed a shirt from his closet.

"Hell, that doesn't sound good." He leaned against the door frame. "What's the address?"

"What?"

"Figured maybe I'd give you a hand processing the scene."

Nick didn't answer, remaining silent as he pulled his socks on and stood up.

Worried now, Warrick backtracked. "Hey, if you want to go solo, that's cool. I just thought you might like--look, I know I didn't exactly back you up before, so--" he stopped--had to really--when Nick wrapped both arms around him and gave him a deep kiss.

"Nothing like that, Rick," Nick nuzzled his cheek. "You've been great at putting up with all my crap on this case. But I'm still not supposed to be working it. If nothing pans out I'll be in a helluva lot of trouble. No reason for you to be, too."

Warrick felt a rush of relief so strong it unnerved him. "Hell, where's the fun getting in trouble all by your lonesome? But, hey, I'm not trying to push. If you want to handle this solo, I'm totally with that."

Nick's expression went from somber to quizzical and back again. "Summerlin. 1109 Arabian Sand Court."

"Just tell Brass you dialed me on your way to the scene. I've just got to grab a shower and change."

A half-smile on his face, Nick nodded. "I appreciate this, Rick."

"Yeah," Warrick couldn't resist those lips still so close to his own. "You can make it up to me when this case is closed."

"I plan to," Nick gave him that devilish smile that Warrick hadn't seen since the case began.

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now. "I'd better get going, or we're never gonna get to that scene." One more kiss and a fair amount of will-power, and Warrick finally headed out to his jeep.

  


***

"Hey, Rick," Brass greeted Warrick as he strolled up the walk to William Russell's house. "Nicky said you were coming to this party."

"Yeah, well, it's probably a good idea for him to be finished with the scene before shift starts, so he needs a hand for that." Warrick looked around the immaculately landscaped yard. A smartly-dressed man was standing in the driveway, wearing an ominous frown and flanked by two uniforms. A little way away, two boys stood with two more officers along with a man and woman Warrick assumed were from Family Services. Frowning, Warrick finally realized what was missing. "The new nanny?"

"No sign of her. Nick mentioned she was illegal. Could be she made a break for it."

"Could be," Warrick agreed. He headed toward the front door and Brass fell into step beside him. "We better find something here," he muttered.

"No matter what you find," Brass pointed out. "Your boss is not going to be happy with Nick."

"I heard that." Warrick took off his sunglasses as they entered the house.

Nick was just coming down the stairs. "Natalie Cerrado's room has been cleaned out," he told them. "I'm thinking she panicked after she came in to see me."

"You check the rooms upstairs already?" Warrick asked.

"Just a quick look around," Nick replied. "I thought you could take that. I want to look around outside while there's still plenty of daylight."

"Got it covered," Warrick started for the stairs, brushing innocently by Nick as he did.

"So I've got to try to keep track of both of you? On separate floors, one inside and one out," Brass sounded disgruntled.

Nick wasn't concerned by the Captain's tone--Brass always sounded disgruntled. "Vartann should be here soon, yeah?"

"Just as soon as he contacts the Dennings."

Nick nodded. "You stay here in the air conditioning, then," he gave Brass a teasing grin. "There are plenty of uniforms outside."

Brass snorted but didn't argue.

  


*******

Warrick had been processing the upper level for nearly an hour when Detective Vartann arrived with the Dennings. He happened to be glancing out an upstairs window at the time, so he saw both boys rush toward their grandparents, avoiding all attempts to stop them. Although he couldn't hear what was being said, Warrick could easily tell what was happening. The smaller boy was clinging tightly to the older woman, refusing to let go despite the efforts of the Service workers. The woman was alternately hugging him and trying to unlock his arms from her waist. 

Brass had gone down as soon as Vartann's car pulled up and now Warrick saw him helping to restrain William Russell who tried to rush for the older couple. Nick stood apart from the commotion--Warrick was grateful he hadn't decided to jump in--and when everything was under control again, he beckoned Vartann over to talk. Warrick went back to processing Jonathan Russell's room, knowing Brass would fill him in when he came back upstairs.

He did, starting with the suggestion-- "You might want to process the father's room next."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. The guy has been setting off everyone's alarm bells before this, but that was a freakin' nuclear launch out there."

"Yeah, I could see that from here. What was it about?"

"You saw the kids run for their grandparents--Jesus, it was enough to make a couple of the rookies misty. Then the father started raving about no contact allowed." Brass looked out the window, "They finally got the little guy to let go." He heaved a tired sigh, "I hope to hell you guys find something, because I'd hate to leave those boys alone with that creep after this."

Warrick started with the master bath, and after another unsuccessful half-hour, he found a hair brush tucked carefully into the back of a cupboard. Curious as to why such an innocuous item would be so obviously hidden, he tested for blood. With just one swipe and one drop of luminol, the swab turned a disturbing, dark shade of pink.

He was bagging it when Brass called him from the master suite's sitting area, so he sealed and labeled the brush before joining the homicide captain. "What's up?"

Brass jerked his head toward the window. "Think maybe we should join them?"

Warrick looked through the window, this one overlooking the backyard. He saw Nick and Detective Vartann standing beyond the expensively tiled patio and the swimming pool, at the far end of the enclosed yard. From his vantage point, Warrick could clearly see the depression in the earth that they were looking at. Nick crouched down to better gauge the size, but Warrick could already tell what--or who--would fit nicely in such a cavity. 

"Yeah. Let's get down there," he quickly repacked his kit and followed Brass downstairs. "I'll be with you in a minute," he said once they were outside and headed for his vehicle. He gathered up the heavier-duty tools, then went through the gate to the back, ignoring the death glare he was getting from Russell.

Nick nodded and smiled when Warrick handed him a shovel and they both began digging carefully while Brass and Vartann looked on. They were a little more than two feet down when Nick suddenly froze, about a quarter of his shovel blade in the dirt.

"Lose the shovels?" Warrick asked, although it was a rhetorical question. He was already trading his shovel for a hand-held broom with extra-stiff bristles. Nick opted for a small hoe that moved larger quantities of the dirt.

Twenty minutes was enough to reveal a plastic-wrapped female corpse.

"Sabrina Russell," Vartann said.

"Can't say for sure yet," Nick said as he began snapping pictures, although it sounded more like an automatic response than something he believed.

"It'll be enough to hold the husband, though." Brass pulled out his cell, "I'll get the coroner here to transport the body."

"I'll take Russell in," Vartann cracked a rare--albeit grim--smile.

Nick lowered the camera and look toward the front drive. "What about the boys?"

"Services will take them tonight," Vartann replied. "And I'm sure the grandparents will get them if the body turns out to be Sabrina Russell's."

"Good." Nick went back to the photos.

"Coroner's on the way," Brass said, then caught Vartann's arm as the detective turned to go. "Get another uniform over here to tape off this scene."

"Will do," Vartann strode purposefully to the front of the house.

Warrick continued to remove dirt from around the body while Nick snapped pictures from every conceivable angle.

Brass' phone trilled. "Yeah, Brass." A slight pause, "How the hell did you--? Uh...yeah. Yeah, okay." He ended the call. "That was Grissom."

Nick and Warrick both froze. "Shit," Nick groaned.

Warrick couldn't have said it better himself.

  


*******

As he and Nick joined the rest of the graveyard shift around the conference table, Warrick could almost feel their intense curiosity. That no one ventured to ask any questions did not bode well. 

Then Grissom came in and began handing out assignments as though nothing was out of the ordinary. "Sara, you've got two d.b.'s in the desert. Mummified remains of a horse and rider in Diablo Canyon."

"Horse and rider?" Sara took the slip, "Extra weird."

"If you need help, you can bring Greg in." Grissom looked down at the remaining slips of paper in his hand. "Warrick, you're with me. We've got a floater out on South Tropicana. Get to the scene and I'll meet you the later."

Warrick took the paper reluctantly, exchanging wary looks with Nick.

Grissom wasn't finished yet. "Catherine, you've got suspicious circs over at the Tangiers."

Catherine took the less-the-great case without argument, leading Warrick to suspect that she and Grissom had discussed it beforehand. 

Grissom's next words confirmed it. "You'll be taking Nick with you."

"What?!" Nick's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm already working a case."

"Actually, you're not," Grissom's voice was firm but not angry. "Day shift is pulling a double and covering the scene."

Warrick felt his lip curl involuntarily at the news and Sara suddenly looked peeved despite her unusual case.

Nick was white to the lips. "Day shift?! If it was up to day shift, Russell would still be--" Everyone at the table watched as Nick struggled to bring his temper under control. Finally, he succeeded. "I don't believe this."

"It's still Travis' case," Grissom pointed out calmly, although his expression was dissatisfied. But Nick wasn't looking at him, or anyone else. "It always was, I'm afraid. Anyway, that's it, everyone. Nick, I'd like to see you in my office before you go."

Nick gave a single, jerky nod but remained seated while everyone else rose to go. Sara put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as she passed. Warrick longed to do the same, but knew it was a bad idea and he had to settle for a quick, "Later, man."

"I'll wait for you by the car, Nicky," Catherine said quietly.

Nick, lost in his thoughts, acknowledged none of them.

  


*******

Warrick was glad to find Nick in the locker room getting ready to leave for the day. Even better was the fact that he was alone. "Hey."

"Hey," it came out as a sigh. Still, other than looking like he'd pulled a triple instead of a single, Nick didn't seem that bad off.

"I need to talk to you."

Nick threw a tiny smirk his way. "Did you take a number?"

"That bad?"

"No," Nick admitted. "Not really."

"So you want to get out of here and get some breakfast?"

"Nope," Nick replied immediately. His smirk widened to a smile at Warrick's startled expression. "I'm sick of breakfast--all the actual meals I've eaten this week have been breakfast. I was going to call the King's Garden and pick it up on the way home."

"Szechwan vegetables at eight in the morning," Warrick grinned. "You gotta love Vegas."

"We can talk while we eat," Nick offered.

"Sounds good to me."

Nick glanced around before speaking again. "I thought while I was getting the food, you might want to pick up a change of clothes so...uh..." he obviously decided it was a bad idea halfway through. "Or...well, whatever."

Warrick knew accepting the invitation might be setting up unreasonable expectations. Getting into such a habit after less than three weeks was a little intense, especially for someone who liked their space as much as Warrick did.

He just didn't happen to want that space today. "I'll be at your place in a half-hour or so."

Nick's smile returned immediately. "I'll see you then." He closed his locker door and was gone.

  


"What did you want to talk about?" Nick asked as they each grabbed a carton of their favorite dish.

"First tell me who was in line ahead of me."

"Just who you think. Gil and Catherine."

Warrick couldn't help noticing that Nick seemed much less stressed than he'd been for the past few days. It was surprising after his reaction to having the case taken away in the conference room earlier. "How'd that go?"

"Pretty much what you expect," Nick sank more comfortably into his sofa and helped himself to some Mongolian beef from the carton Warrick was holding. "Although Gris went a lot easier on me than he could have, all things considered. I don't think he was any happier about day shift getting the case back than I was, although he didn't say that. He gave me the whole thing about too much emotional involvement again."

"Which you _know_ ," Warrick couldn't help adding.

"Which I know," Nick agreed easily. "About how although I was right this time I could have just as easily been wrong. Again, something I know. It's just that when I'm on a case like that--it doesn't seem as important."

Warrick smiled, not so much at Nick's words as the return to the more genial personality that he was familiar with. "And Catherine?"

"Catherine." Nick chewed thoughtfully for a brief moment, then shrugged. "You know Cath. She got me to spill my guts."

"Yeah, that sounds like her."

"So what about you? Talk."

"I ran into Detective Vartann at the precinct when I went about my floater."

Nick dropped his chopsticks into the carton of ginger almond chicken he'd been working on and turned to face the man next to him.

His expectant posture was enough to prompt Warrick to continue. "The body was ID'd as Sabrina Russell. They charged the father, and then Services were able to take custody of the boys. As soon as those boys were alone in a room with their grandparents, they started to talk. They got the boys to the doctor and found..." Warrick stopped eating. "Well, injuries consistent with severe sexual abuse."

"Jesus..." Nick had paled bit.

"After talking to the boys, and Gardner again--she still never admitted to anything more serious than...fondling, and the boys confirm that, so they might be making a deal to get into a program in exchange for her testimony."

Nick's lip curled, but he didn't comment.

"According to Vartann, it sounds like Russell found out his wife was planning to divorce him, so he killed her and made it look like she left so he wouldn't lose control of the money. The nanny found out about it somehow--supposedly before she ever touched the boys--and started blackmailing him for money. Then the father caught the nanny with one of the boys, but there was no actual proof. He wanted something on the nanny, so he...created the proof. The hairbrush I found tested positive for...well..."

"That's...that's beyond sick..." Nick leaned forward and put his food on the coffee table.

"Vartann thinks he didn't go through with the doctor's exam initially for fear one of the boys would let something slip," Warrick set his carton on an end table. "The father will be charged with murder and Felony A sexual abuse. The younger boy is nine, so that's automatic life. Even with the...strange evidence trail, the DA said they had a pretty solid case."

"And the boys..."

"Probably go with their grandparents tomorrow."

Nick closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"You did real good by those boys, Nick," Warrick said quietly, hoping Nick could tell how much he admired the tenacity with which he'd held onto the case.

"So long as they're safe with their grandparents," Nick sighed.

"God, Nick, don't tell me you think--"

"No," Nick opened his eyes. "I think they'll be fine with the Dennings."

"Yeah, okay. I mean, those boys started talking as soon as they were with the Dennings. And when a kid knows he's safe, he'll talk."

"Really?" Nick's voice was wistful.

"Nick?" Warrick frowned with concern.

Nick smiled, although it was strained. "Well, it's worth being in the doghouse for a while, then. Considering yesterday I thought I'd be looking for work." He picked up a carton and started eating again. "So what happened with your floater?"

They discussed the stranger cases that had come up over the past week, and by the time they finished breakfast, Nick appeared to have put the worst of the Russell case behind him.

Warrick planned to make a corny, high school, movie-theater move on Nick to make him laugh, but Nick got up and began collecting what was left of their breakfast. He also reached over the sofa to close the blinds and shut out the morning sun. "I'll be right back," he said, and went into the bedroom.

Warrick nodded and settled into the deep couch. Although not tired--it took at least a double before he started to drag--his life and job made him appreciate any opportunity to relax.

"Hey...uh...Rick?" Nick called from the bedroom.

Nick's note held an odd note Warrick had never heard before. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember before shift I said I planned to make things up to you?"

Relaxation went out the window, especially for 'Warrick Jr.' His conscience nudged him to tell Nick-- _You don't have to do this_ , but his libido won hands down. "Yeah, I remember."

Nick walked back into the living room wearing only a faded pair of jeans that rode indecently low on his hips. As he came closer, Warrick could see that the jeans were so old and soft that it wouldn't take much to tear the denim.

Warrick had to fight the urge to try.

Nick nudged Warrick's knees apart and knelt on the floor between them. There was a flush high on his cheeks. The way his tongue snuck out to moisten his lower lip indicated his nervousness even as it cranked Warrick's lust--among other things--up several notches.

"I was gonna," another swipe with that tongue. "I was...um...gonna do that now."

"You do what you gotta, Nick." Warrick was mildly amazed that he'd managed to speak with such a dry mouth.

Nick smiled tentatively and grabbed edges of Warrick's collar, pulling him forward for a series of quick, teasing kisses before parting his lips in inviting Warrick's tongue inside. All the while, his nimble fingers were unbuttoning Warrick's shirt. 

Some instinct told Warrick to let Nick lead the way, so he kept his hands at his sides despite the expanse of delectable skin in front of him.

When he broke off the kiss, Nick seemed less nervous, and there was a definite sparkle in his eye before he dropped his head to Warrick's chest. For several minutes, Nick stayed still, his lips and nose pressed to the dark skin above the rapidly beating heart, inhaling deeply.

Warrick felt his eyes glaze over with something beyond sensual pleasure, but before he could identify it, Nick was moving again. Lips, teeth and that _tongue_ traced patterns down Warrick's abs and around his navel while Nick's hands worked on his belt and jeans. By the time Nick freed him from his shorts, Warrick was painfully hard.

"Jesus, Nick..." Warrick groaned, lifting his hips to aid Nick in getting the rest of his clothes off. Part of his mind noted that Nick was still dressed, but then Nick began sucking industriously at the head of his cock and rational thought disappeared.

Nick still wasn't experienced enough to take Warrick's entire length in his mouth, and Warrick reflected muzzily that that might be a good thing, because he wasn't going to last much longer as it was. He tried to communicate this to Nick by twining several fingers in the short, dark hair and pulling.

Nick gave him one of those killing looks from under his lashes as he slowly let Warrick slide from his mouth. As Warrick watched with hooded eyes, Nick pulled a condom packet from his jeans, tore it open and carefully rolled the condom over Warrick's straining cock. Nick's dark eyes were intent on his task, only occasionally flicking upwards to glance at Warrick.

When Warrick was able to think clearly again, he would wonder if that look shouldn't be illegal.

Nick got to his feet and quickly discarded his jeans, then knelt on the sofa, straddling his legs so that Warrick's cock just brushed the cleft of his ass and his cock briefly brushed against Warrick's stomach. Warrick couldn't keep from touching and longer and he slid his hands up Nick's thighs to the slim hips.

"I...I'll need your help to..." Nick demonstrated by wriggling his ass, allowing Warrick slightly better access.

Warrick wasn't sure where it came from, but he was able to dredge up sanity from somewhere. "You're still not used to this, baby," he voice was as strained as his control. "After yesterday...I don't want to hurt you..."

The look Nick gave him was appallingly innocent under the circumstances. "I used plenty of... you didn't hurt me yesterday."

 _And the condom is lubed, too,_ Warrick told himself. _As if there was ever any way you were going to say no._ Instead of speaking, Warrick took the pale cheeks in his hands, parting them carefully as Nick sank back on his haunches. Guiding himself toward the tight ring of muscle, Warrick gritted his teeth and let Nick set the pace.

Nick's breath was coming in short, breathless pants, then his took a deep breath and impaled himself on the large cock beneath him. Pain flashed across his features for an instant before his head fell back and his eyes closed in pleasure. "Oh...that's...that's..."

Warrick reached up to tweak Nick's nipples, making the dark eyes snap open. "You just gonna sit there?" he asked, amazed that he could still ask an actual question. Then Nick began to move and Warrick lost the ability to form sentences. Somehow one hand found its way to Nick's leaking cock, and Warrick began to pump it in time to the rhythm Nick was setting as he moved up and down. Warrick briefly let go, to enjoy the sight of it bouncing in time to Nick's motions, then began stroking again in earnest. "You're gonna...come on...come for me, baby..."

Nick let out a choked cry and spilled himself over Warrick's stomach and chest, his breathing harsh and his movements frantic. Warrick meant to milk every last drop, but the sounds Nick was making were enough to end his cracked control. Gripping Nick's hips hard, he braced his feet on the floor and surged upward, prompting another cry from Nick that blended beautifully with his own.

"You trying to kill me?" was the first thing Warrick said when he became coherent again.

Nick, still boneless and unmoving, managed a wobbly chuckle. "So that was okay, then?"

Warrick laughed as well. "Yeah, I guess."

"I'll be able to move in a minute and we can go to bed," Nick murmured into Warrick's neck.

"Ah, hell. Let's just stay here and sleep," Warrick was beyond moving.

"The bed is more comfortable."

"Don't be a baby, baby," Warrick teased. "Can't you sleep on a couch?"

"I can when I have to. But I bought a bed so I don't have to." Nick pulled back enough to look at Warrick. "Besides, there's more room to maneuver on the bed."

"Checkmate," Warrick said, making Nick grin. 

  


End


End file.
